The Ghosts of Delaney
by StrangeDreams
Summary: When the crew of the Pearl stumble across a township that was almost completely destroyed by Barbossa and his crew, Cap'n Jack Sparrow discovers yet one more of Barbossa's past secrets. Jack/Anamaria or Jack/OC? ;) **Chapter 2 up!**
1. Mists and Mysteries

Thanks for reading! This is my first piece of fanfiction ever. I'm so enamored by Pirates of the Caribbean that it seems almost a crime not to try my hand at writing a tale for my dear Captain Jack Sparrow and the rest of his crew. I hope others enjoy the story. ^__^ If you do, I'd really appreciate it if you leave a review.  It'll keep me motivated to finish!!

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The tiny port town was named Delaney, but Jack Sparrow didn't consider it as the Black Pearl slipped through the still waters of the harbor.

If he had given serious consideration to the tall, moss-covered cliffs surrounding the bay or the distance from Tortuga to the small island, Jack would have likely remembered the name of this place. If his mind was especially sharp that morning (and it likely was... Jack Sparrow may have been mad, but he was also rumored to have his moments of frightening brilliance) he could've recalled the special name he had given the island sometime in his past. Jack liked giving nicknames to places and people... it helped him recall the memories associated with each. Sometimes he named places for an especially good haul of loot, a famous battle he had been a part of, especially good food or drink, or -- and he enjoyed this one most -- a past tryst with a lovely lady.

At any rate, the captain of the Black Pearl couldn't be buggered with a detail such as a name that night. The fog along the tiny island's coast was thick, the rocks tall, and his crew tired. _"And the esteemed Commodore Norrington seems intent on tracking us to the farthest corners of the earth,"_ Jack thought to himself, smirking.

"That's not a problem for my Pearl, of course. But we need supplies, and most every other port within a few days' sail is being watched closely by those bluebloods. So this little hole in the wall is gonna hafta do."

"Are you talking to yourself again?"

Jack jerked his head around and came face to face with Anamaria. His helmsman -- or helmswoman, as it were -- grinned at him, and the captain raised his eyebrows.

"We need more rum," Jack said flatly.

Anamaria rolled her eyes. "So we'll be goin to port, then? You'll be lucky if there's any warm drink, let alone anything of real value in this no-man's land."

Jack's face split into a grin. "Are ye saying rum isn't valuable, Anamaria?" He raised his voice, shouting down to the rest of the crew stationed around the deck of the Pearl. "Raise the sails an' bring her in easy, mates! We'll be goin' in with blades and guns -- but I'll strip the hide off any one of you dogs who harms the locals!"

Anamaria gave Sparrow an incredulous look. "And if they fire on us first, _Captain?"_

Jack let his arms drape over the wheel and focused his eyes on the dark patches of land ahead, barely visible through the mist. "Just leave it to me, Ana...."

~*~*~

The Pearl dwarfed every other vessel in the Delaney bay. Granted, the only other boats were fishing boats -- there were no other ships or galleons to be seen.

Crew and captain boarded the rowboats and headed for the single pier that stood out against the isle's coast. Though it was still early morning -- so early that the night of yesterday blended with the gloom of tomorrow -- there were a few burning lanterns at the dock. Beyond these a few other lights could be seen in the village proper, gleaming like small gold sparks in the darkness.

Though Jack looked confident about what lay ahead, the rest of the crew swapped uncertain looks amongst them.

"This place seems 'bout as lively as a graveyard, Cap'n Sparrow," first mate Gibbs grumbled as he worked an oar. "An' I don't know about _you_, but I've had quite enough dealin's with the dead in recent days!"

Jack kept his eyes forward. "Even a small village such as this must have food, aye?" he said, ignoring Gibbs' comment about the dead. "We'll take fish an' water if nothin' else."

Across from Gibbs, Anamaria snorted. "We're gonna  plunder a bunch of _fish?"_

Jack smirked at the fiesty woman but remained silent. Anamaria muttered to herself as the rowboats slid up to the pier.

All that greeted the crew of the Black Pearl were the sounds of waves lapping against the shore and the old boards of the dock groaning. And the smell of fish was rather overwhelming.

Jack swung up onto the dock and motioned for Cotton to tie off the boats. The Captain had hardly turned his back on the crew when Cotton's parrot screeched "AVAST!! AVAST!!"

Jack's back arched and he spun around, hissing at Cotton's loudmouthed bird. "Avast yerself, ye bloody pigeon! What we have here is an element of surprise... let's not go and spoil it, hmm? Now keep yer mouth... er... your beak shut!"

Cotton furrowed his brow. The parrot ruffled its feathers.

Jack turned back around, ready to march boldly down the pier and begin a looting that would surely be remembered for years to come (he could just hear the rumors already -- "those scurvy dogs sacked the entire village while everyone was asleepin'! Unbelievable!"). But the Captain jerked back in surprise as he came face-to-face with a wrinkled old prune of a man. Sparrow's eyebrows shot up. "Avast!" he exclaimed.

"Avast!" said Cotton's parrot.

The man, whose back was hunched and his hands gnarled, barely stood to the height of Jack Sparrow's chin. "Welcome ta Delaney," he croaked. There was a distinct Irish bend in his voice... and something else... something Jack couldn't quite place. "We dun get many visitors 'ere... must be a special occasion. What's yer name, laddie?"

Though caught off his guard, Jack forced his mouth to curl into his trademark roguish grin. "Captain Jack Sparrow, at yer service! This here be me crew." He gestured to the dozen sea-dogs standing on the pier behind him, all of whom wore expressions of utter confusion. Jack rambled on as if he knew exactly what he was doing. "We've sailed in rough waters for the past week, and we need some food in our bellies and a place to lay our heads. Think yer lovely village 'ere could help us out?"

The Captain smiled his most charming smile.

The old man's face scrunched into an expression of distaste. He leaned around Jack and eyed the crew, then leaned back into place and said simply, "If ye be pirates, yer outta luck. There be nothin' of value left in Delaney -- ye can thank the demon-men of tha Black Pearl fer seein' ta that."

Jack blinked. "The... the Black Pearl, you say?"

"Stole what little coin and finery we 'ad in Delaney. Which weren't much to begin with! And they took all the food an' drink we could find and tossed it all into tha bay. They burnt our homes, kilt our men... raped our women...." The man shook his head, scowling. "Bad times to belong to a litl' scrape of a village. Why, all we really have left of our livelihood is tha tavern."

A familiar glow suddenly sparked within the depths of Jack's charcoal-lined eyes.

"Jack!" Anamaria hissed from behind the Captain. "If there be nothin' here, we should probably move on. When the fog clears, they may --"

"Nonsense!" Jack exclaimed, loud enough for the rest of the crew to hear. He removed his hat and bowed to the elderly Irish man (who was still regarding him with an uncertain gaze). "We're hardy sailors with a bit of gold in our pockets. In exchange for a few bottles of rum an' a pile of hay to sleep upon, we could gladly contribute to the town's coffers. What say you, old boy?"

"JACK!" Anamaria blurted, and without warning the Captain reached out and grabbed Ana in a rough headlock. The woman struggled and muttered curses as Jack beamed a smile at the old man in front of him, awaiting a response.

The man seemed to shrink down, pulling away from the crowd of pirates. His cloudy gray eyes shone with suspicion. "Ye don't want to be here... take me word fer it. Go back to yer ship and ferget about this cursed place."

Captain Sparrow furrowed his brow as the elderly man turned away and began to totter down the pier, toward the village. Even Anamaria ceased her struggling and watched him go.

Gibbs stepped to Jack's side. "I dun like this, Cap'n...."

"You don't like _anything_, Gibbs," Jack said with a chuckle.

"Well _I_ happen to like plundering!" Anamaria snapped, and Jack released her this time as she pushed away from him. "And if there's nothing for us to plunder, I say we go elsewhere! You heard the old rat... hey, say it again you wrinkled-up codger...!"

Anamaria whirled around, one arm pointing toward the place where the pier ended and solid land began. Her dark eyes scanned across the area quickly, then she drew back her hand. Her mouth made a small "o" shape of surprise.

The old man was gone.

Jack smirked and raised his head to the cloud-streaked night sky. "The Pearl was here," he murmured. "Barbossa. I think there's more to this place than meets the eye."

Anamaria's scowl could've seared the flesh from a normal man's bones -- Gibbs flinched at that venomous look and stared down at the planks of the pier -- but luckily the Captain seemed immune to such displays of female temper. "If you think I'm going to follow you on some wild goose chase, Jack Sparrow, you are sadly mistaken!"

"That's Captain Jack Sparrow, m'dear," Jack said, flashing a coy grin. Anamaria had to restrain the urge to punch the smile right off his face. Jack whirled away from her, his hands making elaborate gestures in the air. "And any man who doesn't wish to find tha tavern with me may certainly return to tha ship. I, however, intend to be holding a bottle of rum before tha sun comes up."

_"And perhaps an answer or two along tha way,"_ Jack mused to himself.


	2. Jack and Gibbs' Bogus Journey

Disclaimer:  Sadly, I do not own these characters... Disney does.  ~_~

I gave Gibbs the first name "Charles" just because I needed something on the fly.

Huge thanks to my beta-readers, Julie (JE Zison) and Elysse!  The next chapter will get _really_ interesting with the addition of a new character or two.  Reviews would be greatly appreciated... please let me know what you like or dislike about the story, and whether or not I should continue it.

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Chapter Two:  Jack and Gibbs' Bogus Journey 

Gibbs was already regretting his decision as soon as the words "aye, cap'n!" had escaped from his lips. He didn't like the idea of wandering through a tiny, empty village… one that simply must be haunted. But at the same time, he had been through worse situations with the Captain, and he had to hand it to the man… no one could sniff out a store of rum faster than Jack Sparrow.

Anamaria had stormed back to the Pearl with the rest of the crew in tow. "Don't ye worry about a mutiny?" Gibbs grumbled as the two watched the crew board one rowboat and head off toward the ship. Jack merely grinned.

"Of course, Gibbs," he said, and raised one hand to give Anamaria a little wave goodbye. The woman held Jack's eyes briefly, sneering in disgust, then ordered the men to put their backs into the rowing. "But Anamaria won't leave, I can promise ye that."

Gibbs was unconvinced. "I wouldn't be so sure 'ah that, were I you!"

Jack turned on his heels and guided his first mate along beside him, leaning heavily on Gibbs' shoulder. "Well, perhaps ye need a few lessons on how ta handle a woman, mate…."

"I can handle my women without yer assistance, Jack!" Gibbs snorted, his face scrunched into a peculiar expression that could only be disgust or insult (it was hard to tell with Gibbs – the man always looked distraught over something). 

The Captain only grinned wider, as if this was just the response he'd been expecting. "Certainly, of course!" Jack exclaimed, waving Gibbs' indignation away with one swish of a ring-covered hand. "Women are rather like tha ocean, wouldn't ye say? Usually stormy, tumultuous, unpredictable…."

"Cold," muttered Gibbs.

"Aye, cold!" Jack continued merrily. "Just as tha slightest breeze can change tha waves of tha sea… tha same is true of a woman's fancy. Why, just during our last stop in Tortuga, I met this dame who –"

"Beggin' yer pardon Jack – Cap'n – but what's this got ta do with Anamaria?"

Jack swung his hands out to his sides, looking flustered. "She's a woman, ye scallywag!"

Gibbs' frown deepened. "Yar, but Jack… she's also a pirate, aye? Ye shouldn't think of her as just some skirt to be bedded. The lass has a mind of 'er own, and she don't need a man to tell 'er what to do. I seen that first-hand, so I 'ave!"

"I think," Jack continued without pause, "Anamaria simply hasn't _realized_ that she needs a man in 'er life."

Gibbs blanched and stared at Jack as if his Captain had suddenly sprouted an extra set of eyeballs. "I dunno what's worse… havin' a woman on board as crew, or havin' a Captain who thinks he can tame every woman he sees!"

"You mean a Captain who _knows_ he can," Jack retorted, smirking. "Jealous, mate?"

Gibbs snorted in exasperation. He might've continued the odd conversation… but Charles Gibbs was a man easily distracted by anything out of the ordinary. And by the time the two pirates had reached the end of the pier and turned their attention to their surroundings, it was becoming obvious that their little foray into Delaney was going to be anything but ordinary.

Gibbs planted his feet firmly on the final plank of the pier while Jack swaggered on ahead, oblivious to the fact that his first mate had turned as white as a china doll and was about three breaths away from collapsing where he stood.

Fortunately, with one of his three remaining breaths, Gibbs managed to blurt: "JACK!"

Jack spun around, looking curious but otherwise unalarmed, and followed his crewmate's gaze. A few feet away was a wide piece of wood that may have one time been a wall for some little shack along the shoreline. It had been propped up next to a tree, and was now serving as a makeshift welcome sign for anyone daring to step beyond the Delaney dock. Written in some sort of black paint were the words:

THe BLaK PeRL 

Below which, someone had smeared a crude skull-and-crossbones design. It grinned at Jack and Gibbs from behind a thin curtain of weeds.

Jack knelt down beside the sign and traced over the letters with his fingertips. Much of it flaked off, sticking to his hands or fluttering down to the ground.

"Blood… _old_ blood," Sparrow murmured. There was no surprise in his voice.

"Cap'n!" Gibbs hissed, still not moving from the edge of the pier. "Foul work's been done here, and if ye ask me, we should have no part in it!"

"I didn't ask ye, Gibbs," Jack replied without looking up. "But yes, I s'pose if I had, ye would've said somethin' just like that."

"Just what is it yer hopin' to find 'ere, Jack Sparrow?"

Something in his first mate's voice made Jack turn and face him. The Captain shrugged at Gibbs; as he did so, his eyes we drawn beyond the man standing in front of him, to the faint glint of foaming breakers against the shoreline. When the sea whispered something to Jack Sparrow, he had no choice but to provide it with his full attention.

"'Ave ye ever sailed someplace without knowin' where yer headed, mate?"

Gibbs arched one bushy eyebrow. "I don't quite follow ye."

"'Ave ye ever just let the sea take ye where'er she pleases? 'Ave ye ever felt inclined to sail in one direction fer days an' days, just ta see what awaits ye over tha next swell in tha waves?"

_"'E's really off his rocker now,"_ Gibbs thought, but after a moment longer he realized that he knew full well what Jack meant. It was the raw power of the open ocean, the spray, the building storms, the thick sunlight that was every sailor's ambrosia. Wanderlust held every pirate's sense of reason hostage – it made sure that they endured through the harshest of climates and continually came back for more. The sea was a pirate's life, just as it would inevitably be their death. Jack welcomed this knowledge, just as Gibbs could not deny it.

Jack focused on his first mate again, and he saw the look of recognition in his eyes. "The sea brought us 'ere, along this path of ghosts… so let's see what the old girl has in store for us, hmm?"

Gibbs drew his cutlass and stepped off the pier. Without further conversation, the two moved away from the reassuring drone of the ocean and toward the village proper. Jack sauntered along at a relaxed pace. He had no weapon drawn… but one hand lingered near the pistol tucked into the waistband of his trousers.

The silence that greeted them as they followed the overgrown trail was nearly overwhelming. Twice Gibbs caught himself jumping as a twig or rock shifted under their feet. And when Jack finally spoke again in a low tone, Gibbs was certain that his heart was going to spring up from his throat and land with a messy splat at his feet.

"That old fellow we met at tha dock certainly pulled a bloody good disappearing act, wouldn't ye say?"

"Y-yar," Gibbs stammered, then swallowed his heart back down and hoped it would settle into the proper position again.

"And I would bet me boots," Jack continued smoothly, "that we saw lights – _real_ lights - from tha village when we were still on board tha Pearl."

Not far ahead loomed the small island haven known as Delaney. Only instead of being lit by the usual lamplights that greeted guests to most every township in the Caribbean, the winding trail ahead seemed to glow with a strange, white light. The buildings themselves were dark and hulking stone things… almost all of which seemed to be in a sad state of disrepair.

Jack pushed on ahead and Gibbs followed with great reluctance. They skirted around the first small homes, all crudely built things made of mud and rock. The roofs were missing. Wooden doors and fragments of glass littered the trail. And scorch marks were visible on everything: the ground, the rock walls, the shattered planks of wood, the human skeletons…

"Mary Mother 'uh God!" Gibbs exclaimed as he tripped over one said skeleton. There was a whole pile of them in the middle of the path, creating the notion that quite a few people had been running for their lives at one point in time… only to be struck down in one fell swoop by whatever had been pursuing them.

"Run an' ye only die tired," Jack mumbled, giving one of the skulls a little kick with his boot.

The two pirates turned their attention then to the rest of Delaney's remains. The place had been ransacked and burned from top to bottom, that much was apparent. The empty husks of taller buildings – perhaps one time there had been a few shops here – now resembled little more than gravestones. While both Jack and Gibbs were no strangers to the sight of a ravaged town, it was plain to see that this little village had never had a chance for survival. Not after Barbossa and his men. Not after the Pearl….

Gibbs was still trying to make sense of it all as the Captain took a step forward and cupped his hands near his mouth. "HELLOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Jack called, and his voice rebounded from stone to broken stone before fading entirely into the gloom.

"GAH!" Gibbs jerked forward, one hand clutching his cutlass and the other his chest, right above his heart. "BLAST IT, Cap'n… give a man a bit of warnin' before ye go shriekin' ta raise tha dead!"

Jack chuckled. "Calm down, Gibbs… this place is empty – an' has been for quite some time, by tha look of things."

"So now what?" Gibbs growled. His good humor (if one could call his humor good to begin with) was beginning to run short. "There's nothin' fer us here. Back to tha Pearl then, aye?"

"Mister Gibbs, I shan't return to my crew without tha rum I've promised 'em! And furthermore… it would seem a pity to leave without givin' Delaney a good once-over. Who knows… perhaps we may find somethin' here still of value!"

Jack Sparrow had that look in his eyes… that gleam that could only mean one thing: trouble. Gibbs groaned inwardly.

"C'mon, mate," Jack persisted. "Aren't ye curious in tha least?"

"Not nearly much as you, Jack."

Sparrow shrugged. "Alright then. But surely ye won't mind standin' right here" -- he pointed down at the ground between them – "and guarding me back while I have a little looksie around. Savvy?"

Gibbs wasn't sure which prospect was worse… standing guard by himself on the outskirts of a ransacked-and-probably-haunted village, or stepping right into the graveyard and helping himself to all the shiny trinkets that may have been left on the corpses.

But Gibbs also knew an order from the Mad Captain Jack Sparrow when he heard one.

"Aye Jack," he said at last, looking grim but determined. "Ye know ye can trust me as watch. But ye better hurry up!"

Jack grinned, gave his first mate a flamboyant little bow, turned on his heels, and continued down the trail where the skeletal remains of buildings and bodies waited.

~*~*~

It was only a minute or two after he had lost sight of Jack that Gibbs heard a soft rustling in the thick brush behind him.

He jerked around – eyes wide, heart pounding and blade at the ready – and saw a shadowed figure moving through the bushes toward him….

~*~*~

Jack felt greatly relieved that Gibbs had agreed to stay behind during this leg of their little adventure. If there were any living beings left in Delaney, they could've heard the first mate's stomping and grumbling from leagues away… if the _smell_ of him didn't betray their location first.

"Besides," Jack Sparrow mused, "finding a treasure all by oneself is always such an… _enriching_ experience!"

The pirate chuckled to himself. That was one joke that never got old.

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Reviews will be rewarded with rum!  *grin*


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